


Welcome to the Apple Store

by weepingnaiad



Category: Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, And Clint's not as clueless as his best buds think he is, Community: trope_bingo, Getting Together, M/M, Non-powered AU, Phil's a Genius, Steve looks innocent but he's a cunning bastard, Tony's an Android snob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-06
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-28 15:17:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/993439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weepingnaiad/pseuds/weepingnaiad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> After Tony bricks another of Clint's phones, Steve suggests he get an iPhone to keep Tony at bay.  Clint ends up with more than a new phone when he leaves the Apple store.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome to the Apple Store

**Author's Note:**

> **Beta:** The incomparable and brilliant, clio_jlh, worked her magic on this and I am completely in her debt for her help and advice on NYC and Apple stores. But, of course, I fiddle even after posting, so any mistakes are all on me.  
>  **A/N:** Non-powered AU. This satisfies my Trope Bingo square _AU: mundane._  
>  **Disclaimer:** These are Marvel/Disney and Whedon's characters used in the spirit of creative commons. I promise to return them with smiles on.

Clint stormed into their Red Hook fourth-floor apartment, slamming the elevator grate down before he stomped over to where Tony was staring blearily at two monitor screens. "What. The. Fuck. Did you do to it?" he growled, tossing his bricked phone down onto the desk by Tony's hand.

"Hey! Did you like it?" Tony asked, not taking his eyes off the screens.

"No! Dammit! It died! It died in the middle of a fuckin' conference call. With my boss, Tony!" Clint barely refrained from strangling Tony. He was too close, too tempted and could no longer deal in that moment. As he stepped into their kitchen to open the fridge and grab a beer, he hissed, "Put it back. Right this fuckin' instant."

"What?" That made Tony look up. "I got my hands on 'KitKat', dammit. Why on earth would I drag you back to 'Jellybean'?"

Clint closed his eyes and took a long swallow of beer, very carefully not looking at Tony as he did so. When he was certain he could speak without yelling (Steve hated it when he shouted), he opened his eyes and said in as calm a voice as he could manage, "It's a phone, Stark. Not a goddamned treat. Seriously, I'm so tired of you screwing around with my stuff. I can never be sure what my laptop's going to do and this isn't the first time you've hosed up my phone. I'm done. You are not allowed to touch any of my electronics ever again. You got it?"

"So switch to an iPhone, Clint," Steve said walking out of his bedroom slash studio.

"Oh, no! No! Not only no but hell no!" Tony shouted, standing, arms flailing as he blocked Steve from crossing the room to Clint. He poked Steve in the sternum. "It's bad enough you have that--that virus in your studio and on _my_ LAN, but I will not have it in the common area!" 

Clint grinned at Steve over Tony's shoulder. "Could I do that? On my cell plan?"

Steve just ignored Tony's rant and nodded, his smile growing wider as the horror expanded on Tony's features. "No! I will not allow it!"

"Tony," Steve said, looking down at the man raving at him. "It's Clint's phone--"

"Think I could afford a Macbook Pro, too, Steve?" Clint asked, mostly just to see Tony explode, but then the thought took seed and he liked the idea for more than its ability to troll Tony. Half the marketing team used Macs and swore by them, the other half just honestly didn't give a damn.

Tony whirled around, gaping at Clint. Steve took the opportunity to rest an elbow on Tony's shoulder, to keep him from taking flight. "You--you _traitor,_ " he groaned. "You, you of all people, cannot go to the dark side, Clint. You can't." His voice ended on a plaintive tone.

"Luke, I am your father," Bucky intoned from the door of the elevator, his grin lighting Steve's eyes.

"No! You, Barnes--" Tony pointed a finger at Bucky while pressing a palm to his chest. "You're at fault here. This is all on you!"

Bucky just shrugged and wrapped Steve up for a quick kiss, his eyes dancing as he said, "I'll take that, Stark. If you own the havoc you wreck."

"I--I, I might have miscalculated a bit," he hesitated. Bucky could wind Tony up and flatten him faster than anyone. Clint was grateful for his presence in Steve's life for more than just the smile he brought to Steve's face. "I didn't take into account the age of his ROM. I'll root it, put on the latest firmware, then lay down 'KitKat'. You'll see, buddy." He looked at Clint, near to begging now. "You'll love it. You'll be able to brag to everyone--"

"Tony," Clint cut him off. "Who would I brag to? I am not a geek. I do not work with geeks. I work for a company that makes bows. Why in the hell would you think I'd need a little penguin on my screen as incomprehensible text scrolls by? When I was supposed to be on a goddamned conference call?" Tony flinched as Clint raised his voice. "I need a phone that works. I do not need it to sing and dance. I do not need it to be named for candy. I want something that does not hinder me in any way. Do you get that?" Clint glared at Tony, then took another large swig of his beer.

"But--"

"Tony," Steve said quieter, less teasing in his voice. "We get that you feel like Apple stole your dad's ideas…"

"Not feel, Rogers. _Know._ "

"But, that was a long time ago," Bucky continued. "And Clint really does need a reliable phone."

Steve moved out of Bucky's arms and walked over to Tony, nudging him with his elbow. "Cut us some slack, Tony. We can't all be tech geeks. Hell, I barely figured out my tablet without loads of help."

"But that's because you're _you,_ Steve. Clint is not a flighty artist," Tony said.

"Hey! That's my boyfriend you're talking about there, Stark," Bucky said, trying for hard, but the smile in his eyes gave him away. "You want me to beat him up for you, babe?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "Then Pepper would have to come to his defense--"

"And she'd whip your ass, Barnes. While wearing high heels--"

"And doing it backwards?" Barnes finished. "You know, Stark, I don't know if Pepper would appreciate you comparing her to Ginger Rogers."

"Of course she would. Ginger was a badass with killer legs. My lady's all that and more."

Clint just shook his head. How was this his life?

"Hey, guys? Can we get back to me? And my phone? I'm off the hook for the rest of the day, but I have a lot of calls to make tomorrow."

"I already got you covered, man," Tony said. He had turned back to the desk and was reaching for Clint's phone.

"That's not the kind of help I need, Tony. You broke it, remember?" Clint sighed, resigned. "Whatever. Just please, for the love of god, do not fuck me over this time. I like my job and I want to keep it."

Steve blinked, a slow smile blooming on his face as he looked straight at Clint. "I think you need an iPhone, Clint. Tonight."

That caught Tony's attention. "What?" he cried, outraged; his arms crossed over his chest, brow furrowed. Steve nudged him again, then leaned in close to whisper in his ear. Clint's ears burned and he felt a flush rise from his chest.

"Hey! No gossiping about me!"

"How do you know it's about you?" Bucky asked from Clint's side where he then proceeded to steal, _and drink,_ the bastard, the rest of Clint's beer.

"Hey! You ass. You're buying the next case," Clint said, eyes still watching the nearly silent conversation between Steve and Tony. Forcing himself to turn away he whacked Bucky upside the head and grabbed another beer. "I know it's about me. They're worse than gossiping hens. And they only do that..." He paused, waving toward Steve and Tony, where Tony had sat, his eyes once again glued to the dual screens, nodding his agreement to whatever Steve was plotting. He probably was working, though Clint could never tell if he was or if he was gaming or working on one of his myriad side projects. "Anyway, they only do that when it's about me and my non-existent love life."

Steve looked up, his eyes alight with mischief. If it was anyone but Steve, Clint'd be worried. Steve, despite everything in his past, was a genuinely good guy. A great guy, really. He'd be utterly gorgeous if he could grow into his lanky frame, his blue eyes and long lashes making more than girls' hearts flutter. But he was still practically an innocent, especially compared to Clint and Tony. At least he had Bucky who'd watched over the shy artist as a friend until they both figured out what they wanted. When it all came to a head had been a fun, fun week. Clint had been forced to sleep on Nat's couch so he could, well, _sleep._

"Don't worry, Clint. I'm just convincing Tony that taking you to the Apple store is in everybody's best interest."

Clint rolled his eyes. "Whatever. We doing this now?"

Steve silenced Tony with a look and then nodded. "Yeah." He grabbed his keys and looked at Bucky. "You coming?"

Bucky dropped onto the sofa and flicked on the television. "Nope. I've been out amongst the unwashed masses the entire day. I'm planting myself right here."

Steve dropped a kiss to his upturned face and cocked his head toward the door, beckoning Clint onward.

Clint grabbed his brick that was once a decent Samsung phone and shoved it into his pocket.

Tony grabbed his forearm and looked up at him. "There's still time to save yourself, Barton."

Clint shook his head and grabbed his backpack which felt suspiciously light. "Tony, where's my laptop?"

Tony ducked under his desk, swore colorfully for a minute, then began backing out of the tight space before whacking his head on the desk as he straightened, Clint's laptop in his hand, while the other massaged the bump.

"What the fuck? Can't you leave well enough alone?" Clint asked as he grabbed his laptop and shoved it into his backpack.

"I was backing it up for you! Honestly, that's all!" Tony had his hands up, eyes wide.

"Whatever," Clint huffed, making his way to join Steve in the elevator.

"At least tell me you're not taking him to that [stupid invisible cube](http://www.apple.com/retail/fifthavenue/), Rogers!" Tony called after them.

Steve just chuckled. "Nah, Phil runs the genius bar at the store in meatpacking."

"Like that's any better!" Tony called out. "It's got that ridiculously pretentious staircase."

Steve and Clint were ignoring Tony as Steve slid the elevator grate down. 

"What is it with Apple anyway? All that open, blindingly white space. What real tech does that?" He leaned back in his chair raising his voice to be heard as Clint punched the button to set the elevator in motion. "It'll never work, Clint! Apple's a fraud. Honest-to-god tech's are afraid of the light. We work in windowless basements. You'll see!" he warned.

Clint just laughed, loud enough that he knew it carried up the shaft.

"Dammit," he heard Tony swear.

"It's on you, dude," Bucky answered laughing.

"Fuck you, Barnes!" was the last thing Clint heard.

He turned to Steve and asked, "Okay, where are we really going?"

"To the [Apple store](http://www.apple.com/retail/west14thstreet/), I told you."

"Yeah, yeah, I thought you were just winding Tony up."

"While I do enjoy trolling Tony, I was serious. Phil will be able to help you."

"Phil?" Clint raised one eyebrow at Steve. "Should Bucky be jealous?"

"What?" Steve cried, a blush suffusing his face. "No!"

Clint cackled as Steve shoved him out the door and down the street.

~~~*~~~

Clint couldn't help but gape at the three-story glass spiral staircase as they stepped into the store. Tony might have been right about that detail. The store was open and airy, filled with natural daylight from the wall of windows. "Don't they believe in dark colors around here?" he asked Steve, whispering for some reason.

But Steve didn't answer. He was too busy talking to a guy in jeans and a black t-shirt that said 'Genius' on it. Clint frowned. How pretentious could you be? Tony _was_ a genius despite losing his M.I.T. scholarship for overdoing the partying and even _he_ wouldn't be caught dead in a t-shirt that proclaimed it so brazenly.

"Phil's finishing something up in back, but he's probably available. I'll go tell him you're here, Mr. Rogers," t-shirt guy said before walking away.

"Mr. Rogers?" Clint asked. "Shouldn't you be wearing a cardigan?"

"Har-har. C'mon let's at least look at the phones. The 5s is brand new so I bet they won't have any in stock, but the 5c came out at the same time and those come in bright, candy colors. Just think, you could get a candy phone, not one _named_ for candy," Steve said, but Clint wasn't listening. He was still enthralled by the store. It was unlike any tech store he'd ever been in before. Not that he'd been in all that many. But Tony was right, they were nothing like this, most attempting to be too high-tech, or too cool and intimidating. 

Without realizing it, he'd been drawn to the displays, all the accessories, the variety of colors of iPods, the music playing had a subtle, Eastern vibe going to it, making it all rather hypnotizing.

"Clint?" Steve said, taking his arm. "We need to go this way."

"Huh?" he said, shaking himself out of the stupor.

"The genius bar… it's this way. Phil's back there."

"Oh. Right. Okay." Clint blinked, adjusting his backpack as he followed Steve. They had to go to the top floor, and Clint found the staircase was a bit disorienting. He kept staring through the stairs as he climbed. It was all a little surreal. He wondered if this was part of Apple's marketing ploy. Keep people off-balance and they'll throw money at you to be able to leave in one piece. Maybe there were subliminal messages flashing in the lights and hidden in the music?

Clint snorted at himself. Now he sounded like Tony.

They topped the stairs and stepped off onto the third floor only to be greeted by the sight of man in neatly pressed khakis and a black 'Genius' t-shirt walking toward them. He seemed to be the only one wearing belted dress slacks while the rest of the staff was in jeans and cargo pant, making him stand out all the more for it. He had his hand extended and a small smile on his face. He was not your typically handsome guy, slightly balding, with a strong jaw and nose, but he had the most gorgeous blue eyes Clint had ever seen. They were obvious even behind the hipster horn-rimmed glasses. "Steve! It's good to see you again. Are you still having trouble with your tablet?"

"Phil! No, no it's perfect. I haven't had a bit of problem with it after you got it hooked up correctly." Steve grinned, shaking Phil's hand. Then he turned to Clint. "This is my friend, Clint Barton. He's ready to switch to an iPhone."

Steve subtly stepped back, giving Phil room to turn his attention to Clint.

And Clint was suddenly very aware of his faded gray "Archers of Destiny" t-shirt, rumpled black cargo pants, and beat up combat boots. He swallowed and offered his hand. "Hey!"

"Welcome to the Apple store, Mister Barton. I'm Phil." Phil's gaze was warm, his grip firm, but not too tight, and the way his eyes crinkled when he said Clint's name, despite the unusual formality, made Clint's stomach do a little flip-flop.

"Um, yeah, it's just Clint. You tack on all that Mister crap and I feel kind of old," Clint said, a shy smile lighting his face. Then he realized he hadn't let Phil's hand go. "Oh! Sorry!" he squeaked, dropping Phil's hand and wishing a hole would open up in the floor.

But Phil didn't seem to mind, the warm smile on his face not dimming one bit. Then he placed his hand lightly on Clint's back to guide him toward the phones. Steve and everything but Phil faded into the background as Phil talked about iPhones versus Android. He was patient, answering every question and concern Clint had. He'd even laughed a few times, especially when Clint explained about Tony and why he even needed a new phone. That laugh, his smile, even the way he smelled -- masculine, fresh, and warm somehow -- had Clint hopelessly enamored and willing to buy anything Phil suggested.

But Phil was a professional, even if he did stand a little closer than usual. Clint wasn't complaining. He couldn't keep the smile off his face in return as Phil helped him pick out a phone. Luckily, Phil 'found' a 64GB iPhone 5s in champagne from somewhere. Clint suspected they held onto a few extras and Phil did mention that Steve was a 'special' customer -- which made Clint wonder, not that Steve would ever look at anyone but Bucky, but maybe Phil had a crush on Steve? And who wouldn't? So what chance did a guy like Clint have?

When Phil asked for Clint's number, Clint smiled shyly as he gave it, part of him hoping that Phil wanted it for more than the switchover, but the more rational part -- the _insecure_ part -- was quite certain that Phil was just doing his job and was always this attentive no matter the customer. Otherwise, why would Steve have picked him over any of the other 'Geniuses'?

"There you go, " Phil said, handing over Clint's shiny new phone. "I transferred all of the contacts off your SIM card. With your old phone bricked, I can't access anything on the phone's memory. If your friend can restore it, I'll be happy to finish the transfer for you."

Clint knew now was the time to say something clever, to be suave or even awkward and ask Phil out, but he couldn't dredge up the words and instead found himself nodding his thanks, his throat tight.

And Steve must have been watching from somewhere, because he chose that moment to appear at Clint's shoulder, asking, "Hey, Phil, Clint and I haven't eaten, and since he's kept you long past your shift, would you like to grab a bite somewhere?"

Clint tried to elbow Steve to make him stop, but the other man was tougher than he looked and quicker than Clint anticipated so he easily dodged Clint's elbow. Clint stammered out, "You stayed late? For me?" He apologized, "I'm sorry, man. You didn't have to… I didn't mean to…"

Phil cocked his head at Clint. "I don't punch a clock, Clint. I'm the manager here so it's not like I probably wouldn't have been here anyway." Then his lips curved up with a long, slow smile making Clint's brain short out. "I'd love to have dinner. It's still early enough we could probably even get a table at [Buddakan](http://www.buddakannyc.com). I've been wanting to try it for ages."

Steve grinned. "Sounds great!" He elbowed Clint who was having trouble forming full sentences.

"Yeah!" Clint forced out, his face flaming.

"Great!" Phil said, his eyes crinkling. "I'll make sure Maria's got everything covered, then meet you out front."

Clint watched him leave. Phil had a pretty great ass to go with everything else. He was such a goner.

Before he realized it, Steve had grabbed his forearm and was dragging him down the staircase. There for a second, Clint had a sense of being Cinderella fleeing her prince. _'What the fuck?'_ There really must be something in the air.

"Okay, so Bucky will call before we're seated and then you'll have Phil to yourself," Steve said. Clint blinked, pretty sure he had missed half the conversation.

"What?"

But before Steve could explain what the hell he was talking about, Phil was walking out of the store, his 'Genius' t-shirt exchanged for a deep sapphire (clearly he'd been spending way too much time around Steve) button down that made his eyes impossibly bluer and Clint's breath catch in his throat.

"You ready?" he asked, eyes glancing at Steve before sweeping Clint up and down.

Clint could only nod while Steve piped up, nearly ebullient. "Sure! I took the liberty of booking a table just to make sure. It's in fifteen minutes so we can have a drink beforehand. I hope that's okay?"

Phil nodded, then said, "Lead on."

Conversation was no problem because Steve kept asking tech questions and Phil answered without hesitation. Clint wanted to drag the conversation to other things, things that he could carry on about, but he kept tripping over his tongue and ended up keeping quiet, which was exactly the opposite from how he and Steve usually were.

There was a short wait for their table, but that was fine. They were standing together in the bar, the crowd forcing Clint to press close to Phil's side. Steve still monopolized the conversation, but Clint didn't mind, not when he could study Phil to his heart's content without fear of Phil figuring out that Clint really had nothing of substance to say.

"Rogers?" the hostess called.

"That's us!" Steve cried out, waving at her from across the room. He looked over his shoulder at Clint and Phil. "C'mon. I'm starved!"

Clint chuckled. "You're always hungry!" he said to Steve's retreating back. He motioned to Phil to precede him and they weaved through the crowd, Clint keeping hold of his beer while taking the opportunity to ogle Phil's ass.

They followed the hostess to a table for three set under a window with sky blue vertical and horizontal bars, the chairs a matching sky blue. It complemented the area, was somehow understated with just a punch of color in the Asian esthetic, the high ceilings and downlighting creating cozy areas in an otherwise large room with an industrial ceiling.

Steve's phone started in before they were even seated. Tugging it out of his pocket, he said, "Sorry. It's Bucky. I need to take this," and stepped away.

Clint's heart sank. Now he understood what he'd missed. He'd been set up. They both have. He glared at Steve's back, composing himself before turning to Phil. "Look, he's probably not coming back. I think this was a setup and I'm sorry. You don't have to stay. I know you were expecting to have dinner with Steve…"

Phil cocked his head, his hands twirling his glass of Scotch he'd been drinking. He looked at Clint, giving him a gentle smile. "So you had to be tricked into having dinner with me?"

"Wait, what?" Clint couldn't have heard that correctly, could he?

"I was actually looking forward to getting to talk to you since Steve kind of hogged the conversation at the bar," Phil said.

"Huh? You mean that you don't mind if Steve doesn't come back?"

Phil chuckled and his eyes did that little crinkle thing and Clint thought he must be dreaming because things like this just did not happen to him.

"Mind? I'm counting on it," Phil said, face determined as his voice took on a little husky rasp.

Clint blinked as he processed that. Then a wide smile bloomed on his face just as their server arrived.

"So there will be three for dinner?" the waiter asked.

"No. It's just the two of us," Phil answered, eyes on Clint as he answered.

~~~*~~~

Surprisingly enough, the dinner conversation wasn't strained or stilted. Apparently all it took for Clint to find his voice was for Phil to tell one humorous, self-deprecating story and then they were off. They found a shared fondness for old movies, especially vehicles like _'The Maltese Falcon'_ or any Hitchcock film ever. Clint even found himself admitting to his secret love of old musicals and Mel Brooks comedies, while Phil admitted to being a comic book geek who collected Captain America titles.

A couple of hours had passed in the blink of an eye as they lingered over dessert, the conversation finally winding down when the impatient waiter dropped the check off between them. After a short, non-serious tussle over picking up the tab -- Phil won -- Clint found himself standing on the street reluctant to head home, but afraid to assume.

Phil took the initiative yet again. "Clint?" he began. "I-I really had a good time. And…" he paused. "Steve mentioned that he lives in Brooklyn and so do I." He was stumbling over his words and Clint was too charmed to speak, since he didn't help Phil out, though a polite guy probably would have. Phil licked his lips then asked, "Care to be train buddies for the ride home?"

Clint's eyes widened and he ducked his head to hide his blush. Finally, he lifted his face to meet Phil's gaze. Swallowing, he stepped into Phil's space, crowding him. The other man didn't back up; one hand resting on Clint's waist, his eyes darkening.

"It's still early. How about we go to your place? Maybe watch a movie?"

"Oh, god, yes!" Phil breathed out, his free hand reaching for and finding Clint's.

~~~*~~~

Clint had his boots in his hand and carefully turned the door handle after unlocking the door at the top of the stairs. He moved it slowly inward, afraid it would squeak since they rarely bothered taking the stairs; the elevator was their 'front door'. The hinges groaned quietly, but the door didn't drag on the jamb, so he counted it as a win. The lights were off, but the ever-present LEDs, in red, blue, green, and white, blinked throughout the loft accompanied by the soft whir of Tony's computer farm. There was just enough light to pick his way through the room.

"You dog!" Tony barked from somewhere in the dark, making Clint yelp.

"Dammit, Tony!" he snapped and the other man chuckled, his tablet now illuminating his grinning face.

"The walk of shame, Barton? Really? On your first date? Tsk-tsk," Tony mocked and Clint tossed one of his combat boots at him. Gratifyingly, he clipped Tony's shin with it.

"Hey!" Tony cried out. "Watch it! You're going to wake up Steve. Then that'll wake Barnes. And you know what he's like at… oh, what time is it? Hmmmm… are you really sneaking in at four a.m? I repeat, you dog!"

"Fuck you, Tony. Nothing happened."

Tony just snorted in disbelief.

Clint knew it was the wrong move with Tony, but he felt compelled to defend Phil. "Believe what you want, but nothing happened. We watched a couple of old movies and I fell asleep at the end of 'Casablanca'."

"You fell asleep during your favorite movie?" It was too dark to see it, but Clint could practically _hear_ Tony's eyes rolling. "Tell me another one. Next you'll be telling me that you didn't even kiss."

"I'm not telling you anything. But of course we kissed. Phil's got a very talented tongue," Clint said, unable to resist winding Tony up.

Chuckling as Tony spluttered, he started toward the stairs, stopping halfway up to lob his old phone at Tony. "Next time don't bother with the charade. I would have gone out with Phil without all the cloak and dagger."

"Hey!" Tony screeched as the phone landed on his thigh. "How'd you figure it out?"

Clint laughed, high and happy. "Phil. You might not think too highly of Apple, but he's a 'Genius'…" he paused for a beat to allow the pun to sink in, then continued on, "and _I_ can smell a setup a mile away. You're a pain in the ass, but you're usually better than this." He punctuated his words with a flat palm slamming on Steve's closed door as he passed, hoping he woke Steve or Bucky. "I'm on to you!" he huffed out with a fond snort. Those two were responsible for introducing him to Phil who was the cause of this giddy feeling in his chest. And Clint might be embarking on something truly special with Phil, but he still owed them for meddling.

The End


End file.
